


The Lion and the Snake

by JenTheSnarryShipper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Snarry - Fandom
Genre: M/M, snarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:43:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6670315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenTheSnarryShipper/pseuds/JenTheSnarryShipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Underage Warning: This deserves the EXPLICIT Rating!  Harry is sixteen. He is still in school. He is drawn to Snape-the Half Blood Prince. Lots of smut. This is a one-shot. Don't say I didn't warn you! RATED EXPLICIT, SMUT, SNARRY, SNAPE/HARRY, SLASH WARNING, UNDERAGE WARNING, HP/SS Enjoy and review! :) I don't own any characters, they belong to JK Rowling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lion and the Snake

**The Lion and the Snake**  

* * *

 

Harry Potter was sitting in Potions class, as per usual. 

Slughorn jittered with excitement as he poured the next ingredient into his copper cauldron.  The class watched intently, so they could do well when they were instructed to produce the potion themselves.

Except Harry, that is. 

Harry, the sixteen year old wizard, was looking down onto his lap at a potions book.  _His_ potions book.  He wouldn’t let anyone know about it, either. 

Every time someone tried to touch it, even his closest friends, Harry would slam the book shut and walk away, reading it as he did so.

Whoever had owned it before had been so…so _brilliant_.  He actually envied them.  A woman, he considered? 

Though, Harry _wanted_ to believe that a man had written it.  Yes, women were good as friends, but…

Indeed, Harry Potter had one too many secrets. 

His fantasies mostly consisted of Fred and George Weasley—who kept their secret _very_ well.  Harry knew, only because he was so powerful, he could hear through their room-silencing spell at the Burrow.  He pressed his ear against the locked door during a day in summertime, when it was almost too hot to bear.  He couldn’t tell who was saying what, but it didn’t matter. 

_Yeah, stick it in harder, faster!_

The bed was thumping so loudly, Harry was surprised he was the only one who could hear through the spell.

_Are you gonna cum with my cock inside you?  Tell me you want it._

_Ah-God.  Want it, need it Fred._

_What do you need?_   The bed stopped thumping.

Harry quickly put on his invisibility cloak, unzipped his pants, and wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock.

 _DON’T STOP!_ The thumping continued at a slower pace, and continued to build.

_George…_

_Fred I need it…need your big cock inside my arse…_

_Oh, fuck—_

Harry heard Fred and George Weasley screaming as he silently climaxed, coming all over his hand.  He spelled away the mess, put his cock back in his pants, and walked away unnoticed.

Now, five months later, he was stuck on a problem.  He needed help—but he couldn’t go to Dumbledore, and he swore on Merlin he wasn’t going to talk to Hermione or Ron.  Sometimes he felt like he didn’t even have friends—not since the two he _did_ have were snogging in practically every hallway of the school.  They just nagged him all the time…

Therefore, Harry would pull out his potions text, and he’d feel better.  Much better—like a friend was there with him.  The comments inside were hilarious—in a dry and blatant sort of way.  Harry often chuckled to himself when reading on the grass during the day, or alone inside his room. 

Then, he would get sucked back into reality by Ron, Hermione, or Malfoy who was always taunting him.  Sometimes he just wanted to sleep forever, without nightmares, and without anyone.  He was content alone.

In the meantime, after his classes were done for the day, Harry had private lessons.

Harry was afraid—but there was no way of getting out of his training with Snape.  Just like last year, Dumbledore saw it in his best interest to continue these lessons in Occlumency.

He held his book tightly in his hands.  He often used it for security—it made him feel safe—and the comments on the pages made him laugh.  It was like having a friend who was unbiased, a friend who understood him.

Sometimes, he fantasized about the ‘man’ who wrote inside the book—he had to be charming—his jokes were amazingly brilliant.  For a while, Harry started to think it could’ve been Riddle—but why would he call himself the ‘Half-Blood Prince?’

No, it couldn’t be.  Harry just knew that the person who wrote inside this book was intelligent—and it strangely turned him on.  The dark twisted humor, the little insults on the sides of the pages, and the smart tricks on how to bend the rules in potion making…Harry couldn’t explain it, but it was _erotic_. 

To think that someone went to all that trouble to _not_ follow the rules in class and get even better results than the rest of the crowd, the opposite of what Hermione would do, it was completely refreshing.  Life isn’t as simple as following rules—Harry knew that from his encounters with Voldemort over the years.  Going step by step in a book about Defense against the Dark Arts won’t save you in the end.  Even Slytherins would _always_ stick to the rules in the text, for as long as Harry could remember at least. 

And the insults: calling the writer of this text an ‘idiot,’ or ‘an incompetent fool…’

It was…intriguing to Harry.  It made him twitch in excitement, or smirk at the corner of his mouth.  Then his body would tingle…

In his dreams, the man would seduce him…suck him off, and slap his arse for being naughty.  ‘You weren’t supposed to read my personal belongings!’ _Smack!_

Harry shivered in excitement at the thought, almost letting out a whimper, until he came to Snape’s door.  His cock sadly sank down, and he knocked thrice on the door. 

“Come in.”  Snape drawled.  Before proceeding, Harry tucked the book away in his robes.  Snape would never let him live down the fact that he carries a potions textbook out of his own _choice_.  _Merlin, he might actually laugh aloud at that._

Harry let himself inside the man’s quarters, consisting of many green and black furnishings.  Snape put his book down with a thunk, and stalked over toward Harry.

As per usual, he grabbed his hand roughly and led him into his private potions lab.

Harry noticed that Snape _always_ did this—every time.  He wondered why—but, then again, who knew why Snape did _anything_ the way he did? 

Come to think of it, the only thing that Snape did that was truly _funny_ to Harry was when he wacked Ron across the head with a book in his fifth year, after Ron sniggered at him, just when Umbrige confronted Snape about ‘being unsuccessful’ at getting the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.  Ron was being rude, and Snape’s reaction was bloody hilarious—even Harry had noticed that. 

The weirdest thing about it though, was after Harry laughed when Ron was smacked over the head: Snape glanced in his direction and…and it almost looked like he cracked a small grin at him.  Ron, however, glared.

“Potter.”  Snape was glaring at him, looking down at their locked hands.  But this time it was Harry who didn’t let go. 

“Sir?”  Harry tried to sound awake, but he was lost in thought.

Snape raised an eyebrow.  “Stop smiling like a fool and let _go_ of my hand, you brat.”

 _Oh!_   Harry thought, quickly releasing Snape’s hand.  _Damn it!  Got lost in my own thoughts again._   He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

Snape merely wore an unimpressed look, though he had a suspicious glint in his eyes. 

“Potter—have you been having more visions?”  He pried.  His eyes seemed empathetic, almost. 

Harry nodded.  “At night, when I sleep.  Erm—” _except when I sleep with my potions text?_ Harry wondered if he should tell Snape, after all.

Snape let out a drawn sigh.  “We shall continue with the lessons, then.  The very thought that your mind is open to the Dark Lord when you fall into slumber is deadly, is it not?”  Snape questioned.

Harry sighed and nodded.  “Yes sir.”  He muttered.

“ _Legillimens._ ”

The memories were flashing by—the usual ones that came up, anyway.  Harry didn’t have many significant milestones until the age of eleven.  Naturally, the kiss with Cho came up.   

Harry squirmed in his seat, clenching the arm pieces.  He grunted and started to sweat.

 _Wait…what’s this memory?_ Snape thought blindly as he ruffled through Harry’s mind. 

There was a man—a tall, dark figure.  Harry was bent down on his knees, sucking the man’s hardness.  He moaned and whimpered, gulping down all the man’s cum sprayed into his mouth, as if it were the most delectable thing he’d tasted. 

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the memory continued, and Harry couldn’t stop it. 

The man had a whip in his hands.  Harry’s arse was on full display, giving the man permission to take him.  The younger wizard bent over, and the memory got a little blurred at the edges.

“Stop!  Stop it!”  Harry heard himself scream.  Snape was stunned.  He pulled out of his mind as gently as possible.

Harry was gasping, once his mind was free.  His eyes were closed—he was trying to ignore the fact that he was hard in front of _Snape_ , of all people.

In turn, Snape was very glad his robes were thick.

Neither man said anything for a while.  It appeared that Snape was waiting for Harry to open his eyes.

Snape wore a piercing gaze, as if he could read Harry’s mind now.  Instead of doing so, he looked at the book that fell on the floor while Harry was squirming about.

“I’m…”  Harry started, staring down at the floor.  _Oh fuck!  My book!_  

He scrambled to pick up his book, which probably flew out of his robe while he was thrashing around.  It was open to the page that read, ‘Property of the Half-Blood Prince.’

Snape’s mouth was gaped open.  For once, he was truly speechless.  He gulped and found his words again.

“Potter—wait.  How did you…?  Could I…”  Snape ran a hand through his silky black hair.  He looked back at Potter, who was obviously fighting his teenage hormonal urges to run back to his dorm and wank.

“…Sir?”  Harry squeaked.

Snape sighed.  “Hand me your book.  I…want to see it.”  He tried to sound patient. 

Harry grabbed it and clung, holding the book against his chest.  “No!  It’s mine!”  He fumed, backing away from Snape.

“Why you little—!  Give it,” Snape enunciated, “to me, _Potter_.”  It was his damned book after all!

Harry looked down at his book.  “But…”

“Yes?” Snape challenged.  _Why is Potter so unwilling to give his Potions text away?_

Harry looked at him.  He knew he was going to regret this.  He sighed deeply.  “Professor, please let me keep it.  I—it helps me sleep.”  Harry went red.

Snape stopped in his tracks.  _Helps him sleep?_   “By Merlin, what _are_ you blabbering about, Harry?”

Harry perked up when he heard his name.  Snape must be out of his mind to call him Harry. 

“I…read it before I go to bed.  And…put it under my pillow.”  Snape’s mouth hung open in response.  “Look, it just helps okay!”  Harry was getting angrier by the second.  _Why does he care about some textbook anyway?_

Snape closed his mouth, putting his hand up as to halt Harry from getting even more furious.  “Can you explain…how you came into possession of this book?”  Snape said, trying not to sound shocked.

“I, er, bought it.”  Harry stumbled.  Snape rolled his eyes.  He knew the boy was lying, but he had to earn his trust in order to get his book back.

“Okay, fine.  Potter,” Snape glided over to his usual position in lessons, “please sit down.”

Harry raised his eyebrows in fear, but he stumbled to his seat, nevertheless.

Snape decided to tell him.  “Potter, Slughorn tells me you’re the _best_ in his class.”  He mocked, putting emphasis on the word ‘best.’

Harry nodded once.  “Well, he can teach.”  He said with snide. 

Snape fumed, “You insipid brat!”  He pinched his eyes shut, then opened them as if flames were in his eyes. 

Harry blushed, turning his head to the side, still clinging to the book.  He had to play nice with Snape, otherwise, the book would be taken away from him.  “I’m sorry.”  He muttered.

Snape was completely thrown off by his apology.  Nevertheless, he continued to banter.  “I know _how_ you’re doing so well.”  Snape challenged.

Harry looked at him with wide eyes.  “W-what’d’you-mean-Sir?”

Snape smirked at him.  “Harry, do you know who the ‘Half-Blood Prince’ is?”

Harry’s mouth dropped, but he closed it and pretended to play ignorant.  “Who’s that?”  He said, almost childlike.

“Potter,” he sighed, “that is my book from my sixth year at Hogwarts.  _I_ am the Half-Blood Prince.”  Snape stood, with his arms crossed.

Harry nearly fell out of his seat.  He stood up and backed himself to the door, shaking his head wildly.  “No, it just…it can’t be you!  Oh fuck!”  He ran his hands through his hair.   _Snape is the Half-Blood Prince??  Merlin…I’ve been fantasizing about  Snape all this time?_

“Language, Mister Potter—and why _wouldn’t_ it be me?  After all, I _am_ a Potions Master, unless you’ve been too daft to notice.”  Snape looked at the boy with concern.  _Has the boy gone mad?_

“But…” Harry looked at the man up and down.  “…you—your comments, in the book I mean—they’re _hilarious_ …and—” Harry sighed softly.  “Look, the only time I’ve seen you do anything humorous was when you hit Ron over the head with a book.”

Snape snorted.  “Mister Potter, I hate to break this news to you, but I _do_ know how to be humorous—just, not always in person, or in…” he paused for what seemed like an eternity, “…conversation.”

“Oh.”  Harry sighed dramatically. “It’s just that…” He trailed off.  Why was he admitting all this to Snape?

“Harry?”  Snape asked quietly.  He didn’t want to scare the boy off—then the boy would keep cheating from his textbook hints in potions class.

Harry looked up at him with wildly green eyes.  _Did he just call me Harry?_  

“I don’t expect you to understand it.  I don’t even know why I’m telling you this…but…”  Harry took a moment to study Snape’s features.  He didn’t look cruel, or amused.  He looked like he always had—but more striking, now that he knew who the Half-Blood Prince was.  _Wait…but it’s Snape.  I just can’t like Snape.  He can’t be him…but he is…_

“Not many people value dark humor.”  Snape interrupted.  It almost sounded like a compliment.

Harry smiled at him, and then looked away, hands still clutching the book.  “I—this book hasn’t just helped me with Potions, Sir.”  He hesitated, “It’s been nice to…read.  It’s like I have a friend who’s always there for me.”  Harry blushed.  _Stop it.  Stop blushing!  It’s Snape…_ Harry continued to combat his feelings—thinking in the back of his mind: _Hasn’t he always saved me, though?  Isn’t he saving me now?_

Snape stilled.  He pulled up a chair and sat down, not far across from the boy.

“A friend?”  Snape echoed, rubbing his forehead.  _Unbelievable._

 _Is he actually trying to understand?_   Harry thought, as he loosened his grip on the text.

“I just like it, Sir.  I don’t have many friends these days.”  He hung his head low.  He knew this was a lot of information to share with Snape, but, after all—he _was_ the owner of the text.  Harry felt a surge of closeness to the man, even if he was Severus Snape, the most hated professor in Hogwarts.  _And perhaps the most misunderstood_.

“You?  Without friends?”  Snape asked in a low voice.  “What about Mister Weasley and Miss Grainger?  Surely—”

Harry cut him off abruptly, “They’re too busy snogging to notice me.  And everyone else is too scared to be friends with me—for good reason.  The only true friends I’ve ever had have been placed into serious danger because of me and the damned prophecy!”  Harry fumed, looking at the floor.  He looked back up at Snape, who actually seemed dazed.  Harry got lost in thought once he looked Snape over once more.  _I wonder if he’s really as old as everyone thinks he is?  When he’s not sneering, he doesn’t look that old, really. & his eyes—have they always been so dark?  _Harry wondered why he was thinking about all this, trying to get the fantasies of him and the Half-Blood Prince out of his mind. 

Snape nodded once.  “And Miss Chang?  That memory comes up quite often in our lessons.” 

Harry shook his head and shivered.  “Blech.  I…I’m not with her.  The only reason that memory comes up is because I’m trying to find a memory that I hate in order to block you out of my mind.”  _That was the worst kiss.  My only kiss.  _Harry considered his lack of experience pathetic.  He stared at the floor before looking up at Snape again.

Snape’s eyes widened in surprise, but he said nothing.  _The boy is actually decent at his lessons…it just cannot be…_   But it was true, and Snape knew it. 

Harry continued, not feeling so vulnerable anymore.  “I know this is verging insanity—us, here talking together about how your book has aided me, but…” he licked his lips, looking up at Snape, “you wrote in that text.  You’re the Half-Blood Prince.  You’ve been the only one who’s helped me at all this year, even if it _was_ in potions...” 

Snape rolled his eyes at that. 

Harry didn’t care, he had to say this. 

“I swore it to myself, if I ever met the owner of this book…that…” He paused, crinkling his brows.  _Maybe this is a bad idea…_

“Potter?”  Snape quizzed.  There was a long silence before Harry looked into his eyes again.  _Such a vibrant green colour,_ Snape noted.  He gave another look at Potter, wondering when he started to get so many wrinkles of worry on his face—it almost made him look like he was in his early twenties, instead of sixteen.  Snape wondered, and he _knew_ he’d lost his mind at this point…but he _did_ wonder: was the boy so different than him, after all?  Or was he just blinded by hate all this time, for looking like his father as a young boy?

“You called me Harry before.”  Harry said softly.  It looked like Snape was deep in thought—and Harry got a feeling it was about the memory Snape saw in his mind.

Snape sighed dramatically.  “Harry?”  He was genuinely concerned about the boy at this point.  “You’re not seriously considering being friends with _me_ , are you?”  Snape drawled, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

“But Sir, I already am.”  Harry gave him a genuine, soft smile.  _Beside the fact that I’m out of my wits, of course._   He blushed from the neck up, realizing what he just said—and so _boldly_.  Severus looked startled.

He took a deep breath.  “Just because you own the same potions text that I used at your age—”

“Look, I know it’s insane, alright!  Can I…just…” The boy licked his lips again.  Snape shook his head—he was trying to concentrate, but the memory he had just seen of Potter sucking another man off…it was so unexpected.  So _alluring_. 

“I need to—” Harry stood up as Snape did, pausing, then stepping closer.  Snape almost stepped back, but he didn’t.  His legs were frozen.

For once, he felt he couldn’t run—couldn’t find a way out.

“I know, it’s—” Harry stepped closer again, breathing heavily with every word. 

The tension in the room built higher, and Snape really wasn’t sure, at this point, what the boy was talking about.  _What is he doing?  He’s so close…_

“But please—” Harry mumbled, stepping even closer, yet again.  Snape’s attention was drawn to Potter’s wet lips—the ones that were consistently being moistened by that eager tongue. 

He saw the boy put the book back in the pocket of his robes, and watched him reach out to grab his hand. 

“What the—” Snape said suddenly.  He let Potter take his hand, pulling him closer, tugging on him.  The next thing he knew, Potter was _hugging_ him.  _Embracing_ him.  _What in Merlin’s name…?_

Harry sighed deeply as he wrapped his arms around Snape.  His hands weren’t cold like he always thought they were, and Snape was rather warm.  “I just wanted to thank you, Sir.”  He mumbled into the man’s chest, near his ear.

No one had hugged Snape in years.  He almost forgot how it was done.  He wrapped his arms around Harry, holding him tightly.  “You may keep the text, Harry.”  Snape didn’t know why he said it, but he did, and there was no taking it back. 

“ _Mmm_ …” Harry shivered at the breath against his neck.  Snape noticed, but didn’t know what to think about it. 

The boy was acting rather strange. 

Suddenly, Severus felt as if he, too, was sixteen.  He didn’t want to think about his sanity at this point, but he knew he should be genuinely concerned.  He just wanted to keep Harry in this place, warm, close, and here.  _Safe._

“I—there’s something…”  Harry husked in the man’s ear.  “Something else.  The memory—of me, and the,” he gulped, whispering, “other man?  Erm—he was actually…not real.”  Snape raised an eyebrow in surprise, one that Harry couldn’t see, waiting for him to continue.  It had been quite a convincing fantasy. 

 _Intriguing, even_.  Snape shook the thought from his head, but with the boy so close to him…it was so utterly _tempting_ to give in…

The boy’s breath was hot against his ear.  “It was a fantasy…of me and…w-whoever I thought the…Half-Blood Prince was.”  Harry bit his bottom lip.  _And so what if it’s Snape?_ He thought, toying with the idea. 

 _Tall…dark hair…mesmerizing voice._  

He pinched his eyes shut, held his breath, and trailed his hands down his professor’s backside.  He never knew that merely _touching_ could be so erotic. 

Harry knew it was Snape—and he always disliked the man.  Until now.  Now, things were different.  Moments ago, when Harry realized that Severus Snape was the one to comfort him all this time, the Half-Blood Prince in his potions text…well, it was like watching one of his fantasies come to life. 

And Snape couldn’t bloody believe what was happening. 

He felt the boy’s hands move down his back, exploring tentatively.  Felt them kneed through the thick fabric, inching closer and closer to his arse.  Snape stiffened in response—and so did his cock, naturally.

“Harry—you are one year underage.  I am your…your _professor_.”  Snape heard himself say, still in shock that _anyone_ would be interested in him, let alone the Boy Who Bloody Lived!  “And you…can’t.”  Snape wanted to hit himself for being so inarticulate.  

But Harry’s breath—it was so erratic and warm against the crook of his neck.  And the way they were clinging to each other was relieving, like taking a breath of fresh air after being underwater for far, _far_ too long.

And in that moment, the sixteen year old wizard realized that he hadn’t been hugged for longer than five seconds, tops.  This was all new to him.

And so was Snape’s erect cock pressed against his leg.  _That_ was certainly new to him, too.

Harry’s cheeks grew hot as he whispered in Snape’s ear, “No one has to know, Severus.”  As nervous as Harry was, he _wanted_ this. 

Snape shivered at Harry using his first name.  The tremors went straight to his cock, imagining what he saw in the boy’s memory…

“How could you _want_ someone like me?”  Snape questioned in shock.  For some reason, he felt compelled to draw calming circles onto Harry’s back.  He always wished someone had done that to him.  His fingers traced Harry’s backside, as if he was unable to hold back any longer without doing _something_.  Something to relieve the heat between them…

Harry sighed in relief at the comfort Severus was giving him.  He never thought the man could be so gentle.  Perhaps that was what he wanted, after all.  Someone who cared about _him_ more than his fame that came with his bloody scar.

“Severus…”  Harry tried out the name again, not bothering to answer Snape’s question quite yet.  He inhaled the Potion Master’s scent, which smelled of sweet sandalwood.  Harry didn’t know how to answer that question that Snape posed.  He didn’t seem to know _anything_ anymore.

“You’re young—I’m old and used up.  You deserve someone who’s—” Snape halted as he felt Harry pull away just enough to look him in the eyes.  There was a short pause, and hitched breaths.

“…who isn’t…evil, or cruel.”  He finished in a heartbeat.  Harry was so close to him, he felt the warm puffs against his face.  He wanted to close his eyes and succumb to the comfort that the wizard was offering, but he couldn’t.  Harry was far too young for him.  Far too innocent and naïve. 

But as the seconds ticked by, and as each touch felt like a tender caress, Severus’ toes were beginning to feel numb, and his thoughts were turning incomprehensible.  _Impossible; utterly impossible._

The younger wizard just looked at him— _really_ looked at him—deeply and carefully.  He studied Severus’ nose, which really wasn’t ugly at all.  It was just distinct and unique, much like Harry’s scar.  He looked at the way Severus raised his eyebrow, and found it intelligent and cunning.  He thought about the way he used his hands to chop ingredients for potions in front of the class, and the way his robes swooped behind him whenever he turned a corner in the halls.  His curiosity was at its peak, and his wonderings were all blending together into mush.  “You’re not evil.”  He said huskily.

Harry stared at Snape’s thin-lipped mouth, which seemed intriguing and inviting, despite how much the man was quivering in his arms.  Harry wanted so badly to calm him.  _I just want to comfort him, don’t I? Or…_

Snape noticed Harry’s stare, drifting down his face.  He refused to do the same mentally, but his eyes won, finally studying Harry’s unkempt hair—his wicked green eyes. 

His wet lips, in which his tongue had just grazed. 

“You do _not_ want me.  You _cannot_ want me.”  Snape was careful, saying this slowly, “Do you understand, Harry?”  He looked Harry in the eyes, trying to put on his normal façade.

But Harry was just bloody _staring_ at his lips as he spoke.  Snape felt his mouth tighten.  Was he quivering? 

He didn’t know.  The boy parted his lips, as if he were going to say something.  But Snape’s gaze drifted back to Harry’s green eyes.  No one had ever looked at Snape like Harry was doing.  His gaze was serious, pleading, slightly desperate, but so _sincere_ —so _genuine_.  His mind would be an open book if the older wizard decided to use legillimens. 

But he didn’t.  The boy was about to speak.  _He cannot want me_.  Snape repeated it like a mantra, over and over, but it wasn’t convincing enough.

Harry felt Snape trace circles on his back, and decided to make a bold move—he lightly traced two fingers along Snape’s right jawline, trailing downward.  “I’ve…” Harry paused, taking a breath, watching Snape jerk half away from his touch.  The older man gulped, knowing he was trapped in Harry’s gaze again, and soon the boy’s fingers were on his neck.  “I’ve never noticed,” Harry whispered, looking at Snape’s parted lips, “how could I never notice before?”

Snape wore a confused look, but was preoccupied by Harry’s fingers still gently grazing his neck. 

He gulped, saying in a rich tone, “Noticed?”

Harry shivered, closing his eyes, and opening them again.  His eyes were filled with lust, as if there was a burning fire behind his pupils.

Harry licked his lips, “Your voice.  The way you speak.  It’s enchanting, like velvet.”  Harry’s hand, as if it had a mind of its own, started to sift through Severus Snape’s soft long black hair.

Harry was bold, but was also bloody _terrified_ by all this.  It was so much to take in, so fast.  And Snape wasn’t helping. 

“Nonsense, Potter.”  Snape was barely able to speak.  It came out as a whisper—and Harry shuddered against him, in his arms.  He felt the boy stroke his hair, wondering what he was thinking.  If this was some Gryffindor trick…just some sort of prank?

But Harry’s body overtook his mind and senses.  His heart nearly leapt out of his chest as Severus sternly looked at him—boring into his soul with molten chocolate eyes.  Harry felt his hand find Snape’s again, not tearing away from his gaze.  The brush against his skin sent chills down his spine.  Snape wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he shuddered against the boy, clenching the small of his back, nearly touching the hair at the boy’s neck.

Snape felt like his organs were ablaze—it reminded him of his earlier, teenaged days with other Slytherin boys.  But somehow…

Somehow Harry topped all of the encounters he’d had, just by brushing his hand, and earlier, his jaw.  Severus considered the fact that he had indeed seen some of the most vulnerable memories of Harry’s mind—had been there for five years of Harry’s life now—and had watched him grow from a boy into the man he currently is. 

And as Harry interlocked his fingers with his own, he knew that there was no other option but to put a stop to this.  This…whatever this was…it had to stop. 

As if he could sense Snape’s next move, Harry opened his mouth to say something.  No words came, but Severus foolishly waited for Harry to speak. 

Harry didn’t say a word.  He didn’t need to—not as he brought his free hand up to Severus’ chin—not as he pressed his fingertip onto Severus’ jawbone.  Snape heard himself gasp in almost a whimper, but Harry wasn’t uncomfortable at all. 

No one had touched Severus like that for years…decades, even.  He felt utterly lost—and _Harry_ …

Harry was clutching his chin with one hand, and his hair in the other— _Merlin, there is no escape…_

Harry was leaning in…and Severus was entranced, and embarrassed by his hunger for contact.  _Any_ contact.

Slowly, Harry tilted his head a little, with his eyelids halfway closed.  Without one more thought, he felt himself pulling Snape’s smooth chin with his thumb and forefinger—directing him and guiding him.  Snape watched in slow motion, feeling himself tilt just so.  Harry’s fingers were burning on his chin, but he didn’t care.  He didn’t care about anything—and reason had left him moments ago.

Their hot breath played on each other’s mouths for two long seconds.  It was warm—so warm, and they were so close.  _Touch me_ , Snape thought instinctively, unaware of anything else in the world but Harry and his proximity to him.  He _needed_ more, for the first time in so many years; he wanted someone to touch him…to care for him.

Snape felt himself close his eyes as Harry took him into a tentative kiss.  Snape felt Harry’s fuller, plump wet lips on his own, which were thinner, but warm.  Their lips were simply pressed together until Harry moved his, caressing Severus, as if his mouth was slowly dancing against the other man’s. 

Harry wasn’t expecting anything—he just wanted to show the man how much he cared.  His fingers were still pressed gently on his professor’s chin.  His fingers caressed the back of Snape’s head gingerly.

Harry’s lips were gentle as they massaged Severus,’ filled with longing, like an unspoken promise that this was alright.  That this was _real_ , and that it was okay.  With his hand still on Harry’s back, Severus brought his fingers up to his dark-brown tousled hair, tilting his head further, losing himself completely. 

He pressed his lips against Harry’s with vigor.  Harry inhaled and whimpered out a small breath when he felt Severus move his lips against him.  Snape swallowed Harry’s soft whimper, moving his hand frantically down to the boy’s neck, kissing him again, and again.

Harry let himself be claimed, taken, and owned—just like in his fantasies.  He rubbed his fingers against the back of Snape’s head and held him, pressed him, in place.

 _Harry tastes like woody peppermint_ —this was the only thought in Severus’ mind as he sucked on Harry’s bottom lip, not at all tentatively.  Severus moaned at the taste and sucked Harry’s bottom lip harder.

He then nibbled at the sensitive skin gently, taking his time.  Harry gasped wildly, and then swiped his tongue across Severus’ lips.  Severus felt the boy’s tongue and shivered.

He opened his mouth, grabbing the other side of Harry’s head as he did.  He elicited a wild gasp from Harry as he erotically brushed his tongue forcefully against his own. 

Harry suddenly kissed the man back with need and strength after hearing Severus make that _sound_ , causing his lips to vibrate, like a rich moan.  With a gasp, Harry held the man closer, pressing up against his body.  Each man took turns sucking each other’s tongues, ferociously nibbling at each other as if skin was as delectable as licorice wands.

Snape wrapped his lips around Harry’s eager tongue, sucking hard, moving his mouth up and down upon the muscle. 

Snape turned his head frantically to get more contact, breathing in Harry’s scent, as if it was the only way he could survive.  His brow creased as Harry’s hardness thrust against him.  Harry groaned as he did it again, blindly reaching to touch his erection. 

Severus flicked his hand away from it.  With fervor, he pushed Harry back onto the door, not wanting to wake up—just wanting to feel.  He couldn’t stop kissing Harry—couldn’t stop hungrily nipping at the lips before his own as he unzipped the boy’s Muggle jeans.

Harry let out a deep gasp, trying to unbutton Severus’ damned coat, but there were so many buttons.  Severus helped him, releasing himself of his outer black robe, finally undoing the last black button. 

Harry’s face looked red and deliciously flushed as he gazed at Severus’ chest, running his hands over him.  The man was of normal weight—and his skin was bare and flawless.  Harry whimpered at the sight and hungrily sucked his professor’s left nipple.  

“Aaaah—” Severus cried out in a whimper, which only egged the younger wizard to toy with his other nipple. 

Snape half-whimpered and growled as he tore off Harry’s robes, pulling off his red Gryffindor shirt. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry breathed as his chest was exposed.  Severus gazed at Harry’s abs—rubbing his strong hands across them.  _Revenge,_ he thought mindlessly as he suckled one of Harry’s nipples, swirling his tongue around it.  “Oh fuck—” Harry said loudly as Severus did the same to the other nipple, trailing his hand downward. 

“Door or bed?”  Severus growled as he grabbed Harry’s bulging cock through his boxers. 

“Just fuck me already, Severus.”  Harry said in a pleading voice, already working at Snape’s pants, which were halfway off.  Once Severus pushed them off with his feet, he grabbed Harry by the waist.  Harry wrapped his legs around the man, opened the door behind him, and the next thing he knew he was pressed onto a comfy bed, utterly hard.

Harry tore his glasses off and threw them to the right, wherever they landed. 

“Merlin, Harry.”  Severus groaned at the boy’s eagerness.   

Harry grabbed the man and kissed him senseless.  “I want you.” 

Severus kissed him back with tongue.  “Impatient brat.”  He growled.

Harry felt his cock throb in pleasure at Severus’ insult.  “Oh...”  Harry pinched his eyes shut, trying to keep himself from coming from the Half-Blood Prince insulting him, just like he did in the potions text…

As Harry bucked up against him, Snape smirked wickedly.  “Impossible, _insipid_ brat…”

He watched Harry bite his lip and fight his teenage urges.  “God…”

Harry pulled the man down again to taste his lips, which were smirking against his own.  Harry kissed the corner of Severus’ mouth, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck, sucking on his earlobe. 

Severus felt his erection harden impossibly more as the boy sucked on his ear, then his neck, and down his body.  Harry reached Severus’ naval, thrusting his tongue in and out of it, causing pleasant vibrations down his spine.

Severus moaned as Harry practically ripped his pants off, leaving only his black boxers. 

Before removing the cloth, Harry snaked his hand over the large, erect cock waiting for him.  He gasped in surprise at how big Severus was.  He felt his mouth start to water, and looked up at Severus. 

Snape was stroking Harry’s messy strands of hair, as if to tell him to proceed.

Harry slowly pulled down the boxers, watching the thick cock spring up.  Severus hissed at the air hitting his tender skin.  “So…wonderful.”  Harry whimpered.

Harry kneeled in between the man’s legs, spreading them apart.  He started kissing his thighs, licking them up and down, watching Severus groan in impatience. 

“Severus…”  Harry grabbed the man’s hand.  “I want you to watch.”  Once Snape looked down at him, Harry wasted no time.  He grabbed the base of the engorged cock, looking up at Severus in a wanton fashion as he sucked the very tip of it.

“ _Harry_ —”  Severus groaned.  Harry smirked up at him with gleaming green eyes, and licked the entire underside of his cock, toying with his balls.  “Merlin…”  Severus panted, watching the younger wizard close his eyes and take his cock in his mouth. 

Severus felt Harry swipe his tongue clumsily on the tender tip of his cock, attempting to suck more and more of his prick as he went.  He wasn’t practiced, that much Severus knew—but it hardly mattered.  His eagerness made up for it—and the sounds he was making while he sucked…

Harry was humming in what seemed like pleasure—causing Severus’ cock to twitch.  He sucked up the precum and started to stroke the very bottom of Snape’s cock while he sucked at the tip. 

He started to go faster, and harder.  Snape started panting, “W-wait.”  He mumbled, gripping the boy’s hair.

Harry moaned and slowly pulled off of Snape’s very erect cock, licking up any precum he could taste.  He liked it, actually.  It was bitter and sweet, but it wasn’t bad.

“Severus…”  Harry groaned as he slid down his jeans, leaving his y-fronts on.  He felt Snape pull him up by his hair roughly into a heated kiss.  “Mmm…”  Harry moaned, circling his tongue around the Potion Master’s.  Snape could taste his own cum and grunted in appreciation. 

Harry felt Severus trace his cock with his fingertips—he whimpered loudly.  Severus bucked his hips at the noise Harry made, quickly deciding to spell off his y-fronts. 

He studied Harry’s long, narrow cock, before flipping the boy over and taking him into his mouth. 

Harry gasped wildly, “Oh God!”  Severus sucked on him with vigor, going fast, milking him.  He wanted to taste him.

He licked off the precum from Harry’s prick, feeling the boy’s hands run through his hair. 

Harry watched the man as he pumped up and down on his cock, looking up at him with dark eyes.  “Fuck…”  Harry moaned, “I’m going to…”  He bucked into his professor’s mouth, feeling himself about to cum. 

Severus pulled off of his aching cock, only giving small licks on Harry’s thighs to taste his precum.

Harry panted, glad he didn’t cum quite yet.  He wanted to cum with Severus inside him.

“Please, kiss me.”  Harry whimpered.  In an instant, after giving a small smile Harry had never seen on Severus’ face before, he felt Snape kiss him tenderly. 

As if he knew what Harry was going to ask, Snape whispered between hot kisses and thrusting, “Are you absolutely sure, Harry?”

Harry kissed the man in response, then gave a quick kiss on his nose.  He leant up to Severus’ ear.  “I want you inside me.”  Severus shivered on top of him and grunted.  “Demanding brat.” 

Harry chuckled.  “That bad, am I?”  He rubbed his nose against Snape’s playfully.

Severus snorted.  He appeared nervous.

“What’s wrong?”  Harry asked, bringing a hand through Snape’s hair, which he used to find greasy—now it was sexy and soft.

Snape shook his head lightly.  “It’s been…quite some time.”  He looked into Harry’s caring green eyes. 

Harry flushed.  “We can…go as slow as you want, Severus.  I, uh, it’s my—I mean—I haven’t, _you know_.”  Harry turned a brighter shade of red.

Severus wasn’t surprised, but he wanted to treat Harry with the same care as he was given.  He couldn’t say _why_ —but here, with Harry, he felt at home for the first time in his life. 

Severus stroked his cheek with his thumb and kissed him lightly.  He nibbled on Harry’s upper lip. 

Harry smiled as they parted.  He traced one of Severus’ nipples with his finger.  “Merlin, you’re perfect.”  Harry murmured.

Severus raised an eyebrow.  “Not a greasy git?”  He murmured between kisses.

Harry shook his head and rested his hand on Snape’s cheek.  “Your hair is quite soft, actually.  I…like it a lot.”  He blushed.  “And I could probably cum from your voice alone.”  He whispered.

Severus kissed the corner of his mouth.  “My voice…it is that _exciting_ to you?”  He raised his eyebrow again.

Harry shivered in delight.  “Fuck.” 

“I fully intend to.”  Severus smirked.

Harry bucked his hips, “ _Oh_!”  The contact was getting too intense for him, and he could feel his cock swelling further…

Severus noticed rather quickly, and wrapped his hand tightly around the base of Harry’s prick. 

Harry whimpered, trying to catch his breath.  His chest heaved, up and down, as Severus stopped him from coming too soon.

“You don’t want to come yet.”  Snape said, almost in a drawl. 

Harry finally relaxed, despite his aching prick, and sighed. 

“God…y-you…” Harry managed to say, with his mouth tight, almost quivering with anticipation.  The feeling of Snape’s hand on his cock—even if he was prevented from coming—was delightful. 

And then, Snape did something Harry thought he would never do. 

Harry inhaled sharply when he felt a tongue brush against the rim of his arse. 

Severus hummed, “Just relax, Potter.”

“H-Harry,” he whispered, wondering what he got himself into.  _What’s he doing?_   Harry wondered as Severus lapped his tongue against his arse cheeks, encircling him.  And _Merlin_ , the murmurs the man was making!  He felt his cock wanting to swell more at every sound, but Snape’s hand was firm around him, preventing him.

“Harry.”  Snape confirmed.  He slid his tongue slowly into Harry’s tight hole. 

Harry gasped aloud.  “What—” he exclaimed as he felt the thick tongue protruding him.  It was hot, in a way, but also strange to be penetrated that way.

“Mmm…” Snape responded, removing his tongue.  He touched his lips to Harry’s arse and whispered a lubrication spell. 

“Erm…” Harry stuttered.  _Is my arse wet?_

“Don’t worry,” Snape finally took a breath, meeting Harry’s lips with his own.  He kissed him sensibly, murmuring against the young wizard’s lips.  “I won’t hurt you.”

Harry leaned into the kiss, trying to buck his hips again.  He let out a breathy groan.

Snape smirked, “Did you really think I’d play fair in bed, Harry?”  _Surely not._

“I—I…” Harry breathed, “I need…”

Snape cut him off, “I know what you need, Harry.”  Harry felt a lubricated tip of a finger inside his tight hole.  He clenched up out of reflex, until Severus kissed him passionately, and he let his defenses down.  He felt…full.  Complete, even.

“That’s right…” Severus breathed between deep kisses, “Let me inside you, Harry.”

Harry groaned at the words, bucking his hips in response. 

“ _Oh my God!_ ”  Harry yelped as he saw stars.  Something just happened…something pleasurable…but how?  He didn’t care—his body was starting to take over, and his cock was speaking for him.  “Do it again!”  He whimpered, spreading his legs further apart.  Snape repeated the motion.

“Oh God, _again_.”  Harry jerked, clutching onto Snape’s back.

“Yes…” Severus seethed through his teeth, inserting another finger.  He toyed with Harry’s cock as he stretched him out—but Harry didn’t mind.  He was far too preoccupied with his own lust.

The boy was whimpering desperately, pleading for him, for Severus.

Snape aligned himself, deciding that he couldn’t wait any longer

He put the tip of his lubricated cock against Harry’s rim, sucking in a breath as he did.

Harry’s face contorted in concentration.  “Mmmm…how’re you gonna fit, Sev’rus?”  He babbled, lost in the moment.  Snape’s cock was monstrous—he would be surprised if just _half_ could fit into his arse.

Would he even _enjoy_ this?

Severus nibbled on Harry’s upper lip and slid in a little deeper.  “You’re tight, but…expandable.”  His voice sent rumbles down the boy’s spine.  Harry was surprised as he felt his arse accommodate for Severus’ intrusion. 

“Fuck!”  Harry groaned in half-irritation.  He wanted _more_.  Wanted Snape to hit that spot again…

He clutched Severus’ arse with his hands, fingernails digging in, pulling him deeper…

Severus pinched his eyes shut, biting his lip.  “So…” he opened his coal black, fiery eyes, “…impatient…”

Harry moaned loudly and kissed the man.  “…please.”

Severus bucked his hips in a jerk reaction, sliding all the way in.  Harry parted his mouth, bringing his hips to meet Severus’ as his large cock brushed up against his prostate.

“Oh my _God!_ ”  Harry moaned loudly, wantonly, spreading his legs even more now, letting Severus sink deep inside him. 

Severus thrust once slowly, biting his lip to keep from coming.  He brushed his fingers against Harry’s cheek as he slid inside again, probing for Harry’s prostate.

“ _There!_ ”  Harry whimpered, jerking his hips. 

Snape jerked back, as if helpless.  “ _Harry…_ ” he husked out.  His hips ground slowly into Harry’s tight arse, hitting his prostate again. 

Harry licked his lips.  “…love…this…”  He jerked in small motions underneath the man.

Snape gave him a harder thrust, watching Harry plead from it.  “This?”  He thrust again.

“God!  I… _need_ …” Harry looked delirious, with fire in his emerald eyes, grinding himself against his professor’s cock. 

Severus bucked his hips deliciously against Harry’s again, pumping out, then in, at a tempting pace.  “Tell me.”  He managed to husk, kissing his neck.

Harry ground his fingernails into Severus’ arse, pushing him as he thrust in and out, brushing up against that spot inside him that made him want to come.

“Need you…y-your cock… _harder…_ ” Harry screamed the last word. 

Severus didn’t need to be told twice.

He plummeted his tongue in and out of Harry’s mouth at the same pace his cock was thrusting, at a quicker pace than before.  He could’ve gone faster, but he wanted to make sure Harry wouldn’t be hurt.

Harry sucked on Snape’s tongue, groaning. 

“Oh, _Merlin_ …Harry…”  Severus groaned as he pounded into him faster, holding Harry’s legs apart now.

Harry rested his hands on Snape’s hips, watching the man fuck him steadily.  “Oh—oh—oh— _ohmygod, Severus!—”_ Harry groaned, pinching his eyes shut, reacting to how much pleasure he felt.

Snape grunted, holding Harry’s arse higher, fucking him in earnest now.  “Tell—me—” He said as he thrusted, “Harry—”

Harry licked his lips and screamed, “I…I need—your— _cock_ —oh, Merlin…” His cock was almost purple from holding back so long, but he knew he couldn’t keep waiting.  “So—good!”  He moaned.

Severus thrust in and out quickly, moving a shaky hand onto Harry’s throbbing cock, while propping his arse up with his other hand.  He tugged at the boy’s hardness, which only made _him_ harder.

Harry bucked his hips to meet him, pushing his professor’s cock directly up against his prostate. 

“Harry—fuck—H—” _Harry_ , the man mouthed, unable to speak. 

“I’m—” Harry bucked again, throwing his head back. 

“Severus!”  He screamed loudly, as he felt himself explode into his professor’s hand.  His cum shot out in thick spurts on his chest, hitting his neck and arms.  He convulsed, tightening around Severus’ cock.

Severus looked into Harry’s eyes as he felt the boy milking him, coming for him, screaming his name…it was all too much.

He mouthed _Harry_ as he, too, convulsed, thrusting harder than before into his arse.  His hot cum spread inside, filling him.  Severus shook, wrought with pleasure, as he gave a couple more thrusts, working the last of his orgasm inside Harry.

Harry felt his professor breath heavily against his neck, still inside him.  The man was beautiful—how had he never noticed before?

Severus gently pulled out of him, and looked down into Harry’s emerald gaze.  He traced the boy’s lips, which were quirked up in bliss and satisfaction.

“Did I hurt—”

“You could never hurt me.”  Harry cut him off, kissing him immediately afterward.  It was slow and sensual.  Their tongues grazed together lovingly…possessively.

Harry was pulled into a tight embrace on his side.  Harry snuggled up against his chest, stroking the arm around him.  He looked up into Severus’ onyx eyes, the ones that came for him just a moment ago.  He smiled, completely sated.

Severus smiled back at him—without hesitation, and Harry swore he never saw anything more beautiful.  He gasped in a short breath, giving the older man a thorough kiss. 

“Mmm…Harry.”  Snape murmured, holding his Harry tightly against him, as sleep started to take him.

Harry felt his lids closing.  “Severus…love you…”

Snape’s eyelids snapped open.

Harry’s did the same.  “Erm.  Any chance you’re asleep?”

“Harry.”  Severus said, as Harry looked at him.  He looked into the no-longer-innocent green eyes.  He couldn’t believe someone so beautiful _loved_ him…

Harry almost spoke, but Snape put a finger over his lips.  Harry kissed it and smirked. 

“I…I have come to find that I also love you, Harry.”  He said densely, slowly.  He wanted to be sure—but he _knew_ this was true, deep down.  Harry was like no one else, and he realized in that moment that he didn’t _want_ anyone else.

He wanted Harry.

And as Harry smiled back at him, kissing his worries away, he knew he made the right decision.


End file.
